The Secret Life of M
by The Narnian Phantom Stallion
Summary: Ever wonder about who M really is? Why he is so mysterious? Why does he always wear black and never hardly talks? Here is his life's story
1. Chapter 1

**The thought just came to me. I'm sure we've all wondered about M, who he is and his life story. He's so mysterious. We wonder why he wears black and why he doesn't talk much.**

**This is his story written originally by me. All plots belong to me.**

**I've based this loosely off the M in Everything Can Change. So his name is Marque Isidore in this story. So now when you read Everything Can Change think of this as his background story.**

**I've started off with M's age being 10 in the start of this story. At the end of the story he should be 18. =)**

**No copying allowed.**

'The Secret Life of M'

Chapter one:

_January 25, 2004_

_-Afternoon-_

"Marque, come away from there," a gentle feminine voice called across the room at the piano.

Marque Isidore was staring out the window with a very thoughtful look on his face. The window seat was the young boy's favorite place these days.

"I'm waiting for Papa to get home." This was quite true indeed. Michael Isidore, his Papa seemed to always be away most of the time. He was quite famous throughout France for his musical abilities. He did many concerts. Marque begged to come with him many times but Michael had always made him stay home.

Michael had told him little boys didn't need to bother themselves with concerts and needed to study school. Marque disagreed whole-heartedly with that fact. The ten year old didn't think of himself as a little boy. He rather accompany his Papa than study math, science, and wars.

"Your Papa won't be back for another hour, Marque. Come practice your piano lessons," Diane, his Maman gestured to the piano she sat at.

"Why should I practice when I won't ever go to concerts with Papa?" he pressed his forehead against the cold glass of the window.

"You will when you are older, dear heart," Diane began to play an aria as she waited for Marque to come back.

"Why don't you go with him?"Marque turned around to look at his mother with a frustrated look.

"I used to go with him every time but when I had you I decided to stay at home." Diane's fingers stilled on the keys.

He sighed and got up. Doing his lessons would at least pass the time.

_-An hour later-_

"I'm home!" a familiar voice sounded in the foyer.

Marque shot up quickly from the piano bench excitedly. His Papa was finally home!

Diane laughed softly and followed after him.

Michael was just hanging his coat when Marque flew at him giving him a bear hug. "How's my little musician?" Michael asked. He glanced at Diane with a glint in his eyes.

"Practicing," Marque said with a smile.

"Only when I make him," Diane announced giving her husband a kiss.

Marque made a face at their romantic display, "But I've been keeping my grades up."

"Atta boy," Michael high-fived him.

"Any visitors today?" Michael asked as they walked into the living room.

"Just your Aunt Liza. That woman drives me mad sometimes. She was talking about her will today and specifically told me that we weren't included." Diane crossed her arms.

"That doesn't surprise me after how we ran off and got married without her permission," Michael sighed as he sat down on the couch with Marque beside him.

"But that was eleven years ago! Couldn't she forgive us by now?" Diane flounced in the wing chair with a frown.

"That woman has always been like that. Don't take it personal. She's never liked me very much. She conceited and bitter about Uncle Joseph's death." Michael looked over to Marque like he was wondering if the boy shouldn't be present in the conversation.

The Isidores weren't very rich in spite of Michael's concerts. They didn't make much money. Michael's Aunt Liza was a very rich lady and lived in a manor house while he and his family lived in a small one story brick house.

Aunt Liza had decided to disinherit Michael and his family when he married Diane without the aunt's approval. But Michael wasn't a bit sorry only that he worried about Marque's future.

It was silent for a while.

"Would you like me to fix you something to eat?" Diane stood up a few minutes later.

"That would be nice," Michael answered with a nod.

Marque sighed. It was nice to have his father back for a while. He wouldn't go on another concert for a month. That meant days spent on end Marque and his Papa would play on the piano. Michael would show him different techniques and teach him different compositions. Marque couldn't wait!

_-That Night-_

Marque's eyes snapped open suddenly. Something was off and it was unnerving him. It was really hot in his room when it usually was chilly.

He looked over to his alarm clock and saw the time. 3:43 a.m.

He got up from his bed quickly to investigate. Maybe Diane had turned the heat on too much. He better had turned it down. Marque creaked the door open and froze in horror at what he saw. Huge flames were licking at the walls and smoke was everywhere.

"Papa! Maman!" Marque screamed. Panic gripped his heart. What if they couldn't get by the flames and perished?

He shot through the flames ignoring the painful sting of being singed and ran into his parents' room.

"Maman! Papa! Wake up. The house is on fire!" Marque ran to their bed side to shake them awake.

"Mon Dieu sauvez-nous!" Diane screamed as she saw the flames outside the bedroom.

She and Michael got out of bed in an instant.

"Marque! Go now while you still can!" Michael yelled over the roaring of the fire.

"No!" Marque cried out. He didn't even want to think about leaving them.

"We're right behind you son," Michael pushed him into the hall.

It was than a mighty crack was heard and a beam fell in front of the bedroom door.

Marque whipped around and to his horror saw his parents trapped in the room. There was no way for them to escape alive.

"Get out of here now!" Diane screamed in terror. She gripped Michael like he was her life guard which at this point he was.

"No!" Marque screamed. "I won't leave you behind!"

"Go son, make a life of yourself! Get out while you still can!" Michael yelled.

With a sob Marque ran just as another beam fell. He cleared it just in time before it blocked his way. He grabbed Michael's cell phone that lay on the table near the door.

He dropped on the ground when he ran as far away from the house as it was safe. With shaky hands he called the fire department. He kept his voice composed even though he felt like he was breaking to pieces.

Suddenly there was the sound of glass breaking and Marque looked up to see both his parents beating the windows in their bedroom with their fists. Glass was flying everywhere. Their fists were bleeding and they were screaming in agony. It was useless to even try to get through the windows. They were made with bars covering them.

Marque was suddenly numb to everything as he watched his parents perish right there in front of his eyes. Their screams slowly died to nothing and he knew they were dead.

When the fire fighters came to douse the fire he still sat there. Life didn't seem to matter anymore.

**Review if you want more. I want to know if I should continue the story. Is it good enough?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's an update to whoever is reading. Please review if you want an update. Ideas are welcome and needed. =)**

Chapter two:

_January 27, 2004_

_-4:00 pm-_

"I'll take the boy." A cold, expressionless older woman said to the social service worker. The woman was Liza Moyenne. The great aunt of Marque Isidore.

"I have some papers for you to fill out." The worker rummaged through his desk.

Marque sat in a corner with his hands folded in his lap. A frown etched his pale face as he studied the two adults across the room. Dark circles were visible beneath his eyes from lack of two nights sleep.

The clothes he wore were as dark as night matching his equally naturally black hair. He didn't feel like happy colors after what had happened to his parents. They were the only souls in the world he knew. He had no friends or any relatives aside from Liza Moyenne.

What did his future hold now?

"Marque?" Aunt Liza's voice snapped him into the present a few moments later.

His chocolate brown eyes looked up slowly to meet his aunt's.

"Come with me. I will take you home." Aunt Liza cocked her head toward the office exit.

Marque rose up slowly. He tried not thinking about how he didn't have a home anymore.

His hand came up to touch two rings that were on a golden chain. It was his Papa and Maman's wedding rings. He took them after the firefighters and police investigated the house.

The cause of the fire was reported as bad wiring. The Isidores hadn't the money to replace the electrical wires and had asked Liza to help them. She had declined and it cost Michael and Diane's lives.

Marque followed Liza Moyenne out to the black Cadillac awaiting them. The chauffeur had been waiting patiently and opened the doors for them.

He stayed as far away from Liza as physically possible on the way to her manor. The woman kept glancing over him with an icy look.

_-an hour later. The arrival at the manor-_

"Now Marque I have some ground rules for you to abide," Aunt Liza announced as they entered the giant house.

Marque stood straight and tall as he stared up at her.

"You shall not call me nothing but Madame Moyenne while I have visitors or at any time for that matter. Do not speak unless spoken to. I do not want to see you unless I've requested your presence. You may use the music room and any other rooms except my office which is forbidden. Break these rules and you will be punished." Aunt Liza said before clapping.

A maid shuffled in the foyer quickly curtsying stiffly. "Yes Madame?" the maid nervously glanced to Marque.

"Show young Monsieur Marque his quarters," Aunt Liza said with a flick of her hand. "I shall have you get a new wardrobe tomorrow. I hope the clothes you are wearing suffice. We do have a funeral to attend later today." She added.

"Ye-yes, Madame Moyenne," Marque stuttered slightly.

The maid signaled him to follow up the winding staircase. He went up not one but two flights of stairs before the maid stopped at a door on the end of the hall.

"This will be your room," said the woman as she pushed the door open and flicked the light switch.

The room was very cold and dark. Much like his mood. The light in the room was very dim.

Marque stepped in and looked around. There was a small unlit fireplace. The room seemed to be partially for storage. There were some pieces of furniture covered with white sheets. The bed was over by the window. A writing desk was on the opposite side against the wall.

The maid picked something up off the mantel of the fireplace and stooped down.

He realized she was lighting it for him.

"There that should be better," the woman exclaimed placing the pack of matches she held back on the mantel.

Marque sat down on the bed. What was he going to do in this oversized house with such an ill-mannered aunt?

'Don't ever forget to practice the piano, Marque. Someday you will be a great musician but only if you practice as you should.' He could hear his Papa's voice tell him as he did ever so often.

Marque smiled softly, feeling a tear leaking from his eye. He didn't try to stop himself from crying. Life was never to be the same again.

_-Three hours later-_

"Marque, it's time to go. Are you ready?" Aunt Liza called up the stairs with a huff.

Marque didn't answer and simply started down the stairs. He didn't feel like talking. He had cried himself to sleep.

Aunt Liza had a scowl on her face as she took in Marque's disheveled appearance. "You could have at least brushed your hair couldn't you?" She tapped her foot on the ground.

Marque's hand came up to touch his hair. He ripped the hair tie holding back his shoulder length black hair and redid it with a jerk. He still didn't make a sound.

"Come along," Aunt Liza said in a long suffering tone.

Marque followed along of course but his focus was off somewhere else.

The funeral seemed to last forever.

Instead of two caskets there were two small bottles of ashes. The bodies of Michael and Diane were no more than ashes by the time the firemen had gotten to them. It made Marque sick to think about it.

He stared there for the whole ceremony even though he was only half there. All he could hear were his parents screaming in his mind. He was being tormented by the pictures of the fire. It was horrid.

At the graveyard he couldn't take it anymore and ran to the car.


End file.
